


Olden Day Myth in a Modern Day World [ UNDER CONSTRUCTION ]

by Bitrektual



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Merlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-05
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-31 14:56:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1033019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bitrektual/pseuds/Bitrektual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an ex-Navy Captain comes across something at sea that's only supposed to exist in myths and fairytales, he's not sure what to think. All he knows is that he has to keep this remarkable creature safe from those who would lock him up and put him under a microscope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've combined Chapters 1 & 2\. Neither has been changed, and a reread is not required for those familiar to this point.

The long, thin frame darted through the water and raced after a school of fish. Twisting skillfully through the water with as much grace and speed as his target, Sherlock raised back a spear and cast it forward. The spear darted through the dim water, but was quickly forgotten by Sherlock as an immense swarm of fish suddenly surrounded him and a net came up around, trapping him with the flailing bodies of the panicked schools of fish. He had only a few seconds to realize what was happening before it was all a blur of motion.

Sherlock could feel his heart pounding as his body was lifted out of the water, and the frenzied fish flailed about him, making it difficult to see or hear what was going on. The fishing net swung him high into the air, and then came back down on the deck of the boat.

When the nets stopped, Sherlock was finally able to see to some extent, and saw the wide-eyed gazes of several human sailors looking at him in wonder as he peered through the nets. He had only ever heard stories about humans, but had seen very few up close, and he held onto the net desperately as he looked at them all with a mixture of fear and wonder.

“Captain Watson!” called one of the men, and from in the back of the crowd a sturdy built man stepped forward and stared in amazed awe at the creature in the net. John Watson was a Navy Captain, and he’d done this for most of his life, sailing. This time, however, he had been asked by a friend to tag along on his skipper, and he didn’t mind at all. It gave him something to do.

In all his time on the sea, however, he had never seen anything like this. They lowered the net until it spilled its catch, and Sherlock fought with the nets a moment before finally getting free of them. He managed to sit up, but with the slippery fish and his disoriented sense of direction, Sherlock made no attempt to drag the dead weight that would be his tail on a dry surface.

“Don’t touch him,” John said sternly as the sailors gathered around, staring at Sherlock with curiosity. He had a dark tail with an iridescent quality that made it almost seem to shimmer in different colours when it moved in the sunlight, and his skin was pale with webbing between his fingers to aid in swimming. A set of gills along his rib cage were obviously for underwater breathing, but most were closed and hinted that he also has a pair of lungs with which to breath air like humans.

His tail was easily as long as a grown man and strong enough to send one flying. It made movement through water easy, but near impossible on land. So instead, he glared out at the men as warily as they studied him. Dark curls fell into his eyes, but he didn’t dare move. He looked relatively human, though he appeared a little taller and thinner than most. He spent much of his time twisting and turning through the water after prey in the depths of the ocean, and his body was designed to do so. Sharp canines were evident when he opened his mouth, and as one of the men tried to approach, Sherlock bared them threateningly.

“We could get a pretty penny for him with the scientists on shore,” one of the sailors stated quietly, and Sherlock’s keen hearing startled the men as his gaze shot in his direction suspiciously. John frowned heavily with disapproval and shook his head.

“You should know better than to anger the sea. Toss him back,” he said, taking a step back. John was a highly superstitious sailor, and most of his company thought he was silly for it. But he held onto his beliefs, and he didn't fancy taking this creature from its home and suffering the wrath of the ocean for it.

He struggled to understand what the humans were talking about. His vocal chords, though designed to communicate easily underwater, with aquatic animals, could also speak English. There was little need for it underwater, however. For now, he said nothing. His people had no scientists, and so no word for them. The strange term sent a thrill of unease, and he shifted his tail closer to him, wrapping the thick muscle around his body as he hissed threateningly at the men approaching.

"Right good bunch of men you've got here, Mike!" John called out to his friend as he moved forward and crouched down by the aquatic humanoid, looking him over slowly. "You might not understand me, but you've got to go, okay?" he said, pointing out towards the ocean, trying to make the stressed creature understand. The men were beginning to bicker back and forth about whether or not to just keep Sherlock. Sherlock's attention, however, was on John, and though he understood the words, he frowned in confusion at John's actions versus the rest of the crew.

The merfolk, as the humans called them, had no knowledge of the legends they inspired, though they had stories of their own in the same regard. Sherlock looked out towards the sea, looking around to fully gather the situation. He'd never been on a boat before, and it was an entirely new experience. A strange curiosity had him hesitating.

One of the crew members, however, seemed to have decided to make matters into his own hands and dropped a loop of rope around Sherlock, startling him and causing him to swing his tail out in defense, striking back a couple of unfortunate crew members who happened to be within distance. In the process, he knocked over a jar of hooks, and several of the sharp implements snared into his tail, making him give a sharp cry of pain and fall off the platform that the net rested on, coming to land on the floor of the deck with a pained grunt, groaning as the air was sharply knocked from his lungs.

John was quick on his feet and managed to jump out of the way of the swinging tail, but other sailors were not so lucky, and one that had tried to tie down Sherlock was dumped overboard. Mike quickly sent his sailors to drag the man back on board, and left John to deal with "the giant fish". John quickly knelt down by Sherlock and spoke in calming tones.

“Hey, easy. Easy, easy...” John spoke quietly, and Sherlock's sharp hearing picked up the comforting words and lay still as the human reach out a hand to place comfortingly on his arm. John looked over the littering of large treble hooks pushed in past the barbs. “You've got to lay still, you're only going to make it worse,” he said, and Sherlock swallowed and obeyed.

John seemed surprised, and Sherlock held back a smirk as he realized that this human must think him simple as a beast. John pulled a multi-tool from his pocket and cut loose the rope around Sherlock's arms, pulling it away. Sherlock's mind was still reeling from the sudden change, as only moments prior he had been on a hunt.

Human fishing had driven away the fish, and he was further from his pod's territory than usual. Mycroft would be displeased, he thought irritably, and flailed his tail as he tried to right himself again. The flailing of his tail drove the hooks in, and as John came around, Sherlock fell instantly still when he saw the knife. Breathing heavily, he let John cut away the rope and remained still as he glanced up at the man.

The pain in his tail from the hooks was minor enough to ignore for the moment, and faint scars along his tail indicated that he'd been in worse scrapes in the past.

"What's happening?" he asked quietly in English, earning another startled reaction from the human. His voice sounded rough, as if he wasn't used to speaking a human language very often. "What is a scientist?"

"You speak English... That makes this a lot easier," was John's relieved response as he realized the creature was intelligent. Putting the knife back into his pocket, he helped Sherlock sit up as he explained. "A scientist is someone who is curious about new things. They like to learn, to discover. But there are more cruel men than good who are scientists it seems," John said as he carefully examined the mess of hooks. "This is not going to be fun for either of us," he noted, but he thought he could get the hooks out with relatively little damage.

Sherlock listened silently as he tenderly pulled the injured part of his tail closer. They had no scientists or technology as theirs, and so there was no word in his vocabulary for them. Still suspicious of the human, he examined the hooks and hissed as John reach towards them. Quickly the human pulled back and held his hands up peacefully in a surrender.

"I just want to help," he said, cautiously moving forward again. This time Sherlock let him come close and touch him tail, examining the damage done. Slowly he moved the toolbox over and reached for a pair of clippers, cutting the ends of the hooks off and then gently pressing them the rest of the way through to slide out forward the way, without causing damage by pulling them out backwards. Sherlock had felt far worse pain than this and sat quietly through the whole thing as John carefully removed all the hooks.

"I'm sorry about this," John said, apologizing for the nets having brought Sherlock up, but Sherlock only watched him quietly, apparently having chosen to fall silent again. John tossed away the hooks and picked up the rest from where they'd fallen and set them back up in he jar. Glancing out towards the sea, he looked back down at Sherlock. "I'm John, by the way. John Watson. Perhaps if we could get you up over, we could put you back in..." he offered, but Sherlock shook his head.

"We're already too far," was the quiet reply as Sherlock settled back down and tried to hide the panic he was feeling. The ship was still moving, and he had already been beyond his pod's territory to begin with. Now the ship had taken him who knew how far in who knew what direction. Glancing skyward, he tried to determine the time, but he doubted that it mattered. In strange waters with no sense of direction, he'd never find his pod. He'd be eaten by a shark or other such creature before he could find the safety of a group. "I was hunting, I lost track of how far I went," John frowned heavily and let his shoulders sag in disappointment.

He'd had to go further than usual to find food for the pod's young. They had children to feed, and Sherlock couldn't allow himself to go home empty handed. He'd already been out twice that day, with no food for himself. They were migrating to warmer waters until the children were older, and Sherlock knew by nightfall they would have moved on. Sometimes things happened out in the ocean, and if someone didn't come back, they couldn't linger for long to look.

"I'm Sherlock," he introduced himself after a moment, glancing idly at the pile of fish as his stomach twisted painfully. The men and women without children would hunt for the mothers and children first, and Sherlock hadn't eaten yet that day. John noticed him looking and stood up, gathering a couple of the larger fish in the catch and bringing them over to Sherlock. Pulling out his knife, he laid it next to Sherlock in case he needed it.

Grateful for the food, Sherlock didn't waste any time as he grabbed one and dug his teeth into the raw, juicy flesh. The knife wasn't even noticed, and hardly needed as his sharp canines cut easily into the fish and Sherlock began making short work of the first offered bit of food.


	2. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock provides an interesting turn of events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, my muse for the story kind of dropped a little. I have way more fics than I know how to finish. I'm trying to get it moving again, so we'll see how it works out.

"Sherlock; that's an interesting name," John commented, slowly coming closer and sitting just a couple feet from the other, watching with strange fascination as Sherlock ate the fish, hungerly consuming what had been offered before lightly licking his fingers and glancing curiously at John, realizing that the human was watching him. John quickly shifted his gaze when Sherlock's eyes met his, and although he had intended to look away entirely to avoid being rude, John found his gaze moving to study along the long piece of flesh that made up Sherlock's tail.

Soft and smooth like a seal's hide, his tail was the same shade as his hair, and it stretched out and narrowed at the bottom, ending in a flipper that was similar to a dolphin's. The seal-like quality continued up along his waistline and lower abdomen before merging with the lighter flesh that looked more human. Curious wonderment made John begin to reach his hand out, but then he realized himself and froze, glancing up at Sherlock.

"M-may I?" he asked almost breathlessly, enthralled by Sherlock's existence and curious beyond reservation. Sherlock was confused by his antics, perfectly used to himself as a sentient being, and not entirely certain what the fuss was about. But John had proven to be pleasant company thus far, and Sherlock found he could not deny the simply request. Nodding his consent, he watched as John curious reached out and ran his hand along the length of the tail.

It was soft to the touch, almost like it had a soft layer of fur over it. Sherlock watched John's movements with keen interest, while John was fascinated by the strength and power he could feel in the solid muscle. He thought he could swim pretty fast, but he knew that Sherlock could swim circles around the best swimmer any day.

"John, you may want to think of something soon," Mike said as he suddenly returned, pulling John from his examination and startling Sherlock into a hostile posture again. Mike hesitated, watching Sherlock warily. "The men," he continued, looking over at John, "they're talking about calling this Moriarty fellow, some kind of head honcho in marine biology," he said, and John looked alarmed.

"We can't let them take him, who knows what they'd do to him!" John insisted, and Mike suggested throwing Sherlock back overboard. But John was quick to toss the idea. "No, he said he's too far from his pod, he'd never survive."

"Well, there's no way we'll be sneaking him off of here. We can't very well hide that," Mike said, indicating the tail, and John rubbed his face with his hands. Sherlock listened quietly, considering their words and what could be done about it. Finally he looked up and spoke out, drawing their attention to himself.

"Would it help if the tail went away?" he asked, and John and Mike looked at him in bewilderment. When he received no answer, Sherlock sighed in irritated impatience. "I can... I mean, I've never done it, but I can sort of... make legs," he tried to explain it the best way he could when he'd never even done it before. He knew his father had once, but Sherlock had never had need to venture out of the water.

Closing his eyes and concentrating, Sherlock focused his energy on changing his lower half. The tail slowly seemed to wither away, growing smaller and smaller until it formed into a sort of hide blanket wrapped around naked human legs. Sherlock tugged it around him and opened his eyes, cautiously wiggling his toes and tilting his head curiously at the new sensation. That was an odd feeling, indeed! Looking back up, he couldn't help but grin at the amazed looks on John and Mike's faces.


	3. Chapter 4

Sherlock wobbled slightly, one arm around John's shoulders as he tested out his legs. The muscles were strong and held him easily, being the same muscles that propelled him through the water at speeds of up to twenty miles an hour if he wished. It was balance that Sherlock was struggling with as Mike and John tried to help him walk below deck, where they hoped to disguise him and sneak him off the ship when it docked.

Sherlock's steps were awkward and confused as he slowly got the hang of working one long limb at a time, but he was able to keep up well enough with the two humans as they made their way into John's room. Once he was settled on the bed, Mike and John put their heads together to discuss and try to figure out what to do next.

"I've heard stories of selkies, but I never..." John started, watching Sherlock curiously out the corner of his eye.

"But I thought selkies were supposed to be seals in the water, not... y'know," Mike motioned towards Sherlock speechlessly.

"Well, nobody knows for sure. They're sea legends. Mermaids, selkies, sirens... Who's to say they don't all come from the same source?" he asked, and the pair turned to look at Sherlock, who was watching them closely, his fingers placing with the laces of his hide. His skin had darkened slightly to match humans, and though he still had his gills along his rib cage, he appeared entirely human for all intents and purposes.

This could work, he thought. If things got difficult, maybe he could call an associate of his, Mycroft. Much as he hated the idea of government covering something this amazing up, John couldn't squash the fear that if people knew, it could only mean disaster for Sherlock's species. Looking around, he dug around in the closets, finally finding an outfit that would fit Sherlock.

"Put these on," he said, motioning for Mike and leave and following shortly after making sure any windows were covered so that nobody would see. Then he closed the door to go deal with the rest of the crew as Sherlock figured himself out.

Once alone, Sherlock glanced around the room curiously, not immediately taking up the clothes. As his brain quietly processed the events that had transpired in just a couple of hours, Sherlock rose to his feet and used the support of the bed and tables to slowly make his way around the room. His exploration was startled short when he passed a full length mirror leaning against the wall, tied with string to keep it from rocking with the boat. He'd only seen a mirror a couple times before, when he'd been exploring a shipwreck. He saw the clothes in the reflection behind him, and turned to examine them.

They were a bit confusing up close, as he'd only seen them from afar before. But as he picked up the pants and trousers, it only took him a couple minutes to figure out how to get them on properly. He undid the hide and folded it aside gently. His struggle came when he tried to figure out the zipper and button, but they proved to be a bit much for the moment. He picked up the shirt and tugged it on, rising to his feet again and moving to stand before the mirror again. In his excitement to look, he didn't need to hold anything as his balance began to adjust.

"Decent?" John's voice came after a couple light knocks. He entered when there was no objection, and looked over Sherlock with an impressed expression. "Hey, you actually look pretty good in that!" he exclaimed, grinning. Sherlock slowly approached the bed again, placing one hand protectively over his hide as John came closer and buttoned up Sherlock's shirt and awkwardly taught him how the zipper worked. Once he knew how, Sherlock felt like kicking himself. "Right then," John went on, and Sherlock pulled himself out of his thoughts. "The ship will reach dock in about ten minutes. We're all going to act casual, get off. It's Mike's boat, so he'll distract anyone while we get somewhere quiet," he relayed the plan, and Sherlock nodded.

"What if they try to stop us?" Sherlock asked, his heart giving a nervous flutter as he remembered the men talking about scientists, and Moriarty. "Who's Moriarty?" he asked, and John glanced up in confusion, then remembered the earlier conversation and shook his head.

"I don't know, never heard of him. But it doesn't matter, because we're not going to hang around to find out," he said, sitting on the bed next to Sherlock and settling back on the bed as he waited for the boat to arrive. "So listen, I've got this place going at 221B Baker... Well, I guess you wouldn't know it, anyway. But point is, you're welcome to stay there until we figure out how to get you back to your pod," John offered, shrugging.

Sherlock considered this information silently a moment, and John was finding it a little nerve-shaking how emotionless the creature seemed. His face betrayed no trace of the confusion and fear he was feeling inside. He appreciated John's offer, but he didn't know how to convey it. Did humans have pods? Or was it just him? Sherlock nodded his thanks, not daring to speak for fear he'd say something wrong. John smiled and sat up again, giving him a pat on the shoulder before getting up and kicking off his shoes to relax for a few minutes. Sherlock sat on the bed for the rest of the journey, his mind deep in thought.


	4. OOC Message

Normally I wouldn't bother with this, but I'm actually quite fond of this AU but I didn't expect it to get so much attention (which I know it hasn't gotten a lot in comparison with actual good fics, but for one of my things...). Basically, I'm posting this and gonna leave it up for a couple days to let anyone know who might be Following this that I've come to a sort of crossroads.

Johnlock is not my original OTP, and so continuing this as a Johnlock might not work out for me. What I'd like to know (if anyone is still keeping up with this story) is this: Do/did you like this story because of the merlock AU or because it was Johnlock? This would help my writer's block immensely and help me decide if I should continue it or rewrite it, and you're welcome to comment, PM, or even hit me up on my Tumblr (astudyinholmes, it's an rp blog so don't follow it unless you're prepared for that) to let me know.

The reason I ask here, is because I have a number of routes that I'd be content taking (the first being to rewrite it), but in case people are still watching the story, I'd like to know your opinions first. If I get no responses, I may retitle this as a failed attempt and rewrite it a little more to my satisfaction.

Sorry for the OOC chapter, but yeah. Life has been busy, but now I'm ready to write/work on some fics again.


End file.
